


This Grave Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

by thesonder



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Missing Scene, Sad, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Vormir, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesonder/pseuds/thesonder
Summary: When Steve was told he would be returning all the Infinity Stones to the exact moment they were taken, he hadn't registered exactly what that had meant when returning the Soul Stone. Not until the Red Skull had made him see. And then he could never forget.AKA Steve sees Natasha's dead body over the side of the cliff of Vormir, and he struggles to handle it.This is just plain, rotten, painful angst so... sorry for that, I guess.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	This Grave Ain't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

Steve lands with a jolt on the hard rock of Vormir. As soon as he lands, stumbling forwards a couple steps to steady himself, his heart sinks, knowing what waits for him here. This is the planet that stole Nat away from him. That took his minute and stretched it to eternity. He swallows. This is going to be hard.

The swirling wind of Vormir is bracing against his cheek as he looks up and around. He has landed on the top of the mountain, quite conveniently, as he wasn't fancying the long trek up here particularly much. 

In and amidst the grief circulating around Clint’s return to the compound, the archer had neglected to mention just how beautiful this planet was. Disgustingly, horribly, beautiful. He had wanted to hate this planet on arrival for what it had taken from him, but he can’t.

The orange sun casts a shimmering glow across the long stretches of purple sands that surround this tall mountain and the snow covered metal on which he stands. The planet is humid and warm, and yet snowflakes fall and melt on Steve’s skin. What a strangely mesmerizing planet. 

Breaking away from his reverie, Steve gulps and lowers his eyes from the purple cloudy sky to see a cloak clad figure hovering before him. In the dim light from the orange sun, he can just see the hint of red under the dark hood.

“Schmidt.” 

The figure shrouded by the hood chuckles, low and deep, and it sparks anger in Steve’s chest. He steps forward with his case in hand, towards the Red Skull.

“I’ve come to return the Infinity Stones, to the time they were taken.”

“Have you now?” the Red Skull sneers. “The time they were taken indeed… Are you aware of what happened at the moment this particular stone was acquired?” he hisses, and Steve says nothing, his heart squeezing with emotion in his chest.

Of course he knows.

“Come here, Captain.” The Red Skull says, “Come and see what was sacrificed for your petty victory.” 

And then, without warning, Steve finds himself teleported right to the edge of the cliff face. The Red Skull holds onto him, stopping him from moving as he struggles in the guardian’s grip.

“ _Look,_ ” Schmidt hisses, and he forces Steve’s head to look straight down, towards the bottom of the cliff, and that's when Steve’s heart plummets.

She’s there, right there, lying there sprawled on the ground, and blood surrounds her head, and suddenly Steve is hyperventilating because he can’t look, but he has to. She’s right there, her face is in sight, the same one that he used to spend days looking into. Her hair, with the ends stained blonde, so bright and red and soft like when he used to run his fingers through it. Her eyes, just the way he remembered, sparkling and green and so incredibly beautiful. Steve gasps as the tears begin to fall faster than he can count them, and he begs for the Red Skull to stop, to let him go. He can't do it, he can't see her, accept that she is really gone, here in front of his own eyes. His heart pounds with grief and emotion, reaching out in his chest, begging to touch her, to hold her, to scream at her to come back to him.

She had promised. She had promised to come back to him and she had lied. One minute. One goddamn minute. 

He supposes this is his minute. One minute after she fell. He saw her. He _is_ seeing her. But she can’t see him. 

“Was it worth it, Captain?” Schmidt hisses viciously into Steve’s ear as he struggles to draw air into his lungs, tears still streaming down his face.

Stve can only shake his head, again and again because _No, it was not worth it. It would never ever be worth it. Nothing was, is ever, could ever be, worth her._

The longer he is forced to look at her face, the more his chest aches, pure, throbbing, physical pain, so sharp it feels like his heart is about to burst. It’s like all the love he once felt for her, has been contaminated with a sick poison that is grief, turning its once wonderful power into intense, scorching pain. All consuming and rendering him speechless and immobilized.

He misses her.

And just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, that he’d rather pitch himself over this cliff to join Natasha than bear to look at her dead body a moment longer, the Red Skull lets go, and both of them are teleported back into the center of the metal stage on the mountain, and Steve falls to his knees, the case of stones falling from his hand as he leans over on fours, retching as the emotional pain of his loss rolls over him in vivid waves. 

He barely registers as the Red Skull reaches for the case, and as the orange glow of the Soul Stone emerges from it. 

“A deal is a deal. This is your exchange. You saved the world, but you lost her. I wonder if it will ever be worth it.” 

Steve stays on the ground, unable to speak even if he wanted to. A wave of air rushes over him like wind, and when Steve looks up, trembling, he sees that the Red Skull is gone. 

Steve collapses back into a sitting position, the now empty case next to him, and he tilts his head back and drags air into his lungs as he desperately tries to push the images of Natasha’s body, her blood and twisted limbs, from his mind.

He had saved the world, but he had lost her. The world had lost her. And that would never be a fair exchange. Not as long as this universe is left standing.


End file.
